Bruised Knees
by ThisLoveHasNoCeiling
Summary: "Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine." -Ralph Waldo Emerson. In the wake of Dumbledore's death, a defeated Tonks struggles to continue fighting for what seems to be a lost cause.
1. Part I

_A/N: School is over at last! Hooray! I'm super excited to finally be able to post this._

_As the summary suggests, this is yet another post-hospital-wing scene. I figured I ought to try it at some point. _

_This story features Remus and Tonks, but is not in any way related to any of my other stories. It was originally a one-shot, but has since lengthened into a three-sectioned-thingy. I say that because the sections aren't so much chapters as parts; it's more of a really, really long one-shot._

_I've rated this T for some harsh language - there's not a lot of it, but it is there._

_Part I is dedicated to StrawberryFields, Hannah, and Anastasia, who left wonderful reviews on other stories I've posted but who I couldn't PM to thank. If you're reading this, thank you guys so much!_

* * *

**Part I**

Nymphadora Tonks wasn't really sure what possessed her to act like a complete and utter prat. It had something to do, she supposed, with the fact that she was sleep deprived (and had been for months), in shock (because someone like Albus-freaking-Dumbledorewasn't supposed to just _die_), and still in that half-relieved, half-euphoric I-just-fought-Death-Eaters-and-somehow-made-it-out-alive state that always accompanied a fight for your life and left you with much more guts and much less reserve than you would normally have.

Still, she was not sure those things were enough to turn her into the exact kind of person she didn't want to be - the exact kind of person that, a year ago, she'd never have believed she'd have turned into. Though, in all honesty, since Sirius' death and Remus' conviction that he wasn't good enough for her, she was a lot of things that she'd never have expected to be.

She always said she'd never be _that girl _who lost herself in a man and couldn't bear to be without him. _That girl _was needy, and pathetic, and _weak, _and if there was one thing Tonks couldn't stand in herself, it was weakness. To be fair, more than just Remus was causing her depression: there was being stationed in Hogsmeade with bloody _Dawlish,_ who never gave her a moment's peace and always forced her to take up extra shifts; Molly's constant mothering and _pity_, which actually made her feel worse half the time; losing Sirius and Emmeline, two colleagues, both of whom she knew personally and one of whom she loved dearly; and, of course, the war in general, the constant stress of knowing those she loved were in danger and could be lost...it had all taken its toll.

And then, to see _Fleur, _of all people, standing to defend her love for Bill despite his possible infection with lycanthropy...it was suddenly, horrifyingly too much. And she'd found herself declaring her own love, like in some sodding storybook, only in her version Remus was still rejecting her instead of snogging her passionately in front of everyone and saying some clichéd and sappy thing about how much he loved her.

No. In her version, he was refusing to meet her eyes, and stuttering, and turning her down despite all her friends sticking up for her.

It wasn't until Hagrid suddenly entered the hospital wing that Tonks shook her head, having realised she'd still been clutching the front of Remus' robes, and backed away just as Harry left with McGonagall, who, she saw with a slight twinge of satisfaction, threw Remus a scathing, professor-ish look as she went. And then it was silent.

It was silent, and she found herself looking away from Remus, all her actions rushing back to her (had she really said it like that, in front of _everyone_?), feeling shame building and tears finally coming. And she didn't want anyone to see them - even the bloody _kids _had witnessed her outburst - so she moved off, towards the door, dazed and bleary-eyed and not really sure where she was going.

Once, when she was in school, she'd been at Gryffindor quidditch practice, waiting for Charlie, and had got hit _hard _in the head with a Bludger. She'd barely lost consciousness, and though it'd hurt, she'd refused to see Madam Pomfrey, thinking it a bruise and a headache and nothing else. But she'd felt in a fog for days - _concussed_, the Hogwarts matron had said when she'd finally been consulted - and that was how it felt now. Everything was foggy, confused, dreary...none of it felt real.

But as she moved slowly, stiffly towards the door, hearing a ringing in her ears and the background chatter of other Order members and the kids - Ron, she thought, asking Remus if the school would be closed - the gravity of what she'd done finally sank in, the shame of it reached a peak, and she wanted to crumble to the ground with the weight of it. She'd embarrassed him, not to mention herself, and broken about every rule of professionalism with colleagues - not to mention every rule of simple _decency _with ex-love interests. She was horrified at her own actions.

Not to mention the fact that _Dumbledore_ was dead. Albus-freaking-Dumbledore. She couldn't believe it, couldn't truly comprehend the fact that her teacher, leader - hell, _friend - _was dead. Sure, she'd resented him when he'd sent Remus away, but still...he was Dumbledore. Dumbledore couldn't die, couldn't leave them like this, in the middle of a war with no clear end in sight. He just couldn't be dead...he _couldn't_ be.

As she made her way towards the door at the end of the ward, she tried to force herself to process that he was, that he was gone, and yet, though she was sure the grief would set in later, all she felt right then was shock and physical pain. Her body ached all over from being hit with various curses - though none of them fatal, she thought grimly - and she felt the strain in every tiny movement as she nodded weakly at Molly and exited the hospital wing, not giving anyone a chance to stop her.

The last thing she saw as she shut the door behind her was her own reflection, in one of the windows opening to the inky black sky. And she wondered, as she saw herself - sallow-skinned, baggy-eyed, and _brown_ - she wondered just when it was that Remus Lupin had become the colour in her life.

The soft thud of the door drove that thought from her mind along with any lingering hope that Remus would make anything better, because he'd not even glanced at her as she made her silent exit despite the glare which Molly hadn't dropped since he'd rejected her.

_I've done it this time_, she thought miserably.

It was true that she'd argued with him before (far too many times, in her opinion), but never had he been so unresponsive to her pain, to her pleading. He usually had the decency to look regretful, or even ashamed, but this time - this time she'd seen nothing but resignation, and maybe even confusion, in his eyes when they'd met hers for the briefest of moments. And then he hadn't looked at her, through the brunt of it, and she wondered if her words had even reached him at all.

The way he'd taken to calling her Tonks, the way he'd stopped letting her in...things were so, so different from the way they'd been before, when Sirius had been alive and all had been right in the world.

They'd not been together long, sure, but there had been _something_ - a feeling she got when he was around, one he seemed to be affected with as well - and that _something _had been strong. Sirius had seen it, he'd teased them mercilessly about it. Molly had known, she'd talked to Tonks about it on various occasions, always telling her how, while she knew a woman like Tonks could have any man she wished, Molly only wanted her to give Remus a chance, because he really was such a _good _man. Even _Dumbledore_, she thought with a pang, had taken obvious pleasure in pairing them for guard duty any chance he got, with that infuriatingly knowing twinkle in his eyes that said he was all too aware of what was going on.

Yes, there'd been _something_, even early on, and she'd labeled it love. And she was sure, though they had only had a few weeks of official togetherness before he was sent on his mission, that he'd felt it too, whatever it was. He'd said so, albeit accidentally, the first time they'd kissed.

_"Molly?" Tonks called as she entered the kitchen of the Burrow, taking a moment to notice its other occupant who was sat almost motionless at the counter, looking more worn and tired than usual. _

_ It was lunch time in the Auror office and Tonks had accepted Molly's invitation to join her at the Burrow for the meal, now that Grimmauld was no longer being used as headquarters due to questions regarding its ownership. Meetings were occurring at the Burrow for the time being, and though they sometimes had dinner beforehand, she missed living in Grimmauld and seeing other members everyday. Seeing _Remus _everyday. _

_ As Tonks took in the very man's form, sitting slumped and worn and _grey _at the kitchen table with the _Daily Prophet_ open yet being ignored in front of him, it struck her once more just how much he'd lost in his life, just how many people he'd loved who'd left him. The man sitting at the counter, seeming defeated even as he glanced up, saw her tentative and sympathetic smile, and offered a rather weak yet genuine one in return, seemed decades older than the one she used to joke with over post-guard duty hot chocolate in the drab kitchen of 12, Grimmauld Place. Yet even that kitchen, in all its mould and slime and dust, seemed loads brighter and cheerier and more hopeful than the warm and homey Burrow which, without Remus' laughter and smile, couldn't compare. _

_ "Wotcher," Tonks greeted quietly, the word lacking its usual energy. _

_ If Sirius' death a few weeks before had hurt her, it'd hurt Remus a million times worse, and she knew that while she couldn't hope to understand his pain, her own was more than she had ever felt before. She and her cousin had grown quite close since their reunion the year before, and he'd come to be a fast friend, someone she loved very dearly. _

_ Sirius' death had been, and still was, utterly surreal. It probably had something to do with the fact that she hadn't seen it happen; she hadn't been forced to watch him fall. In some ways, it still sort of felt as though he was in Grimmauld, sulking in the attic with Buckbeak and a bottle of firewhiskey. _

_ She'd woken up in the hospital to a sobbing yet relieved Molly and a stony, white-faced Remus, who'd refused to meet her eyes when she'd asked if everyone was all right and in doing so had answered her question without saying a thing. _

_ She'd cried, yes, and grieved, and mourned, and felt _guilty_, horridly guilty, yet Remus'd brought her out of that. And while it hurt - hurt searingly and unbelievably at times - it was getting better. Remus, for one thing, hadn't let her swallow her pain and shut everyone out, as she'd been tempted to, and she liked to think she'd prevented him from doing the same. _

_ But on top of how hard it was to believe that he was _gone _- actually, truly gone - there was her and Remus' relationship that'd taken a strange and undefinable turn. _

_ When it'd been the three of them in Grimmauld Place, it'd never felt as though it was strange for her to be so close with Sirius and Remus, as though she didn't need a boyfriend or anything else as long as she had them. And now, as Sirius was gone, and it was just them - Remus and Tonks - it felt...different. There they were, best friends, a man and a woman, and they loved each other. At least, Tonks knew she loved Remus, and not as a friend. And when Sirius was there, their feelings weren't really pushed in one way or another, despite Sirius' constant teasing. _

_ But now, now as they spent their evenings just the two of them (though last night, she thought with a frown, had been a full moon, and she'd felt achingly _empty _as she'd tried not to fret), it felt strange that there wasn't something more. Because they acted like a couple, it seemed, without really being one. _

_ And as she saw him, alone at the table yet looking much livelier now that she was in the room - could she really have that much of an effect on him? - it struck her just how very much she _wanted _there to be more, needed there to be more. She'd pined after him for months and now, as her world was still shaking from loss, it seemed as though the natural thing would be for them to be more than friends, or whatever it was they were. _

_ She'd tried, before, to push things farther, but through the past year Remus hadn't let her move them past the line between friends and more-than-friends, no matter how many times she'd tried to get him to take that step. But now that Sirius was gone, would that change? Would they finally-_

_ "Tonks?"_

_ Tonks looked up, shaken from her thoughts, and met Remus' inquiring gaze. "What?" She asked dumbly. _

_ "I asked if you'd slept well." Remus responded, a slight smile curving his lips despite the bags under his eyes. _

_ "Oh." She muttered sheepishly, grinning back at him. "I - well, not really." _

_ "Oh?" He asked, arching an eyebrow._

_ "It's just - well, I was worried about you." She told him honestly, ducking her head a bit as she said so. _

_ It was early for him to be up after a full moon, and he looked like hell, but upon hearing her words his features brightened into a genuine smile. She was half-worried that he'd be upset with her for bringing up the full moon, or guarded about it, as he was when they'd first met, but it seemed her concern overshadowed that. _

_ "I'm feeling tired and sore but nothing worse than usual," he told her, still grinning, before adding, with a slight frown, "I've just been trying to work up the energy to make myself a late breakfast."_

_ Tonks was tempted to laugh at him, for being 'stuck', as Sirius used to call him: too tired to do much of anything, often a result of trying too soon to move about after a rough transformation. Instead, however, she smiled at him, saying, eagerly, "Want me to make you something?"_

_ Remus' eyebrows shot up, no doubt because he remembered all too well Sirius' tales of Tonks' cooking mishaps, yet he didn't seem to have the heart to turn her down when she was eyeing him so hopefully. _

_ "Really, it's no trouble." Tonks continued when he looked conflicted. _

_ Taking Remus' resigned shrug as a yes, Tonks put the kettle on and prepared to cook the only food she was able to make reasonably edible - eggs and toast. _

_ "I'm sure you'd rather have Molly cooking for you, but-" Tonks stopped abruptly, realising she had no idea where the Weasley matriarch was. "Have you seen her today?"_

_ "Oh, that's right, I was meant to tell you." Remus said guiltily. "Fred and George flooed in a panic, something about not having someone at the till and the shop being too busy for the two of them to manage on their own. Molly was the only one around, as Ginny was already helping out, so she reluctantly agreed to give them a hand."_

_ Tonks snorted at the idea of Molly working at _Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes _while she prepared Remus' tea, just as she'd noticed he liked it, and set it in front of him triumphantly._

_ "I'll just have to have breakfast for lunch with you, then." She said after he'd thanked her, turning back to the stove and beginning cooking the muggle way. She'd never got a handle on her household spells, after all, and she'd got used to taking the path of least resistance. _

_ "Breakfast for lunch?" Remus asked in an amused voice. _

_ Tonks nodded, meeting his eyes briefly as she moved carefully about the kitchen. "Used to be my favourite when I was a kid. Dad and I would have breakfast for dinner all the time, especially when Sirius came over, which was a lot, but it drove mum crazy."_

_ For a moment Tonks worried she shouldn't've brought Sirius up and looked quickly and guiltily at Remus, but he just chuckled, saying, "I imagine it would've."_

_ Encouraged by his response, Tonks continued, "She used to joke that it was like living with three kids. Sirius was over all the time until - well, when I was 8, and then...she just stopped talking about him at all." She finished on a quieter note, biting her lip and trying desperately to stop the tears from coming. She'd been doing so well today, too. _

_ Remus matched her tone, murmuring, "I just wish we'd've been able to tell your mum. About Sirius, I mean. Before now."_

_ "Me, too." Tonks whispered, feeling the tears building. _

_ Not being able to reunite Sirius with his favourite cousin, Andromeda, due to Dumbledore's orders, had been harder than anything she'd ever done. She was always so open with her parents, so honest, and lying to them, even by omission, had been one of the biggest challenges she'd faced since joining the Order._

_ "When she first saw the _Prophet _- Merlin, I wasn't in the state to tell her myself - she was furious. Dad had to talk her 'round. I think she's still a bit mad at me for not telling her. She knows I couldn't've done, but still...she wishes I had." Tonks paused, turning back towards Remus, who was eyeing her with obvious concern. Swallowing her tears, one of which, the traitor, leaked down her face, she muttered, "I wish I had, too. I never imagined she'd not have the chance to see him again."_

_ Remus, noticing the tears on Tonks' face, took a deep breath and, despite Tonks' strangled sounds of protest, stood slowly on obviously stiff limbs and crossed the room to gently wipe the tears off her cheeks. _

_ "Dora," he said, the name causing her stomach to erupt in butterflies as always, "please don't blame yourself. You followed Dumbledore's orders. You did what you knew was right, what you knew was necessary. You couldn't have told her."_

_ Tonks took a deep breath, closing her eyes and savouring his gentle touch. "I know. I just wish-I wish it didn't feel like this."_

_ When she opened her eyes, Remus was looking at her tenderly, and she knew he understood. Instead of saying anything - for really, there wasn't anything _to _say - he removed his hand from her face in favour of wrapping his arms around her in a secure and firm embrace. Tonks sighed, taking immense comfort in his warmth and smell and beating heart as she brought her own arms around him just as tightly, burying her face in his jumper. They stood there, taking strength from one another, until Remus eventually spoke in a soft voice. _

_ "There are some things," he said softly, "that Sirius' death cannot change."_

_ Tonks, somehow completely certain that he was talking about this, about _them_, didn't have words for him, and instead squeezed him harder, not quite ready to put herself on the line and push him to elaborate. _

_ Eventually, she took a deep breath and pulled away to look into his eyes, giving him a shaky smile and saying, "I'm sorry. It seems I'm always crying to you these days, and you shouldn't have to comfort me. I probably just make this harder for you."_

_ Tonks moved to pull away, ashamed of bringing it up all the time, but he held her back firmly. "No, Dora. If it weren't for you, I'd be - I'd have run again, like after James and Lily. I've leaned on you just as much as you have me."_

_ Remembering what McGonagall had once said, about how Remus' had pulled away from everyone for years after James and Lily's deaths, Tonks felt her heart lift. Was she really what was keeping him around? Comforting him? He'd only broken down once, and cried, and it'd been so touching, that he'd felt comfortable around her to the point that he could let it out, that she'd cried, too. But she never imagined that she could have such an effect on him, like he did her..._

_ But the way he was looking at her, his one hand gently framing her face, his eyes searching her own as for some sort of answer - Tonks began to believe it. And it felt more strong and warm than anything she'd ever experienced, and despite the tears in her eyes she felt like beaming, because Remus had just given her the best compliment she'd ever received. _

_ Remus' own gaze continued to search hers, and her breath was held, and she wondered, giddily, if he would kiss her. He was certainly close enough to, and his gaze was darting towards her lips, and he was just starting to lean down - but then, as wonderfully and beautifully as the moment began, it was ended abruptly when Remus' nose scrunched and Tonks caught a whiff of what smelled horrifyingly like burning. _

_ "Bugger!" She swore, glancing around and finding the source quite quickly - four blackened pieces of bread. "I've burnt the toast."_

_ There was a beat of absolute silence, and then Remus began to laugh, his arms falling to his sides as she stepped away from him to survey the damage. The toast was burnt, charred, completely _in_edible, and yet there he was, _laughing.

_"What?" Tonks asked, desperately battling the urge to laugh with him, because she was almost never able to keep from grinning when he was. This was shaping up to be an exception, however._

_ "It's just that - you don't do anything halfway, do you?" Remus asked, eyes dancing in amusement._

_ Tonks was tempted to join him once more, but instead her gaze drifted back to the ruined breakfast and she felt her cheeks grow red and her face twist in what she was sure was a miserable expression. _

_ "That's one way to look at it." She muttered, the elation of their close proximity draining and instead leaving her cold and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Remus. I really wanted to make you something."_

_ Tonks heard Remus' chuckle end abruptly at her own disappointed tone, and she looked down, away from him, unable to see his face in her shame. He had other ideas, however, because a moment later he was right in front of her again and forcing her to meet his gaze with a gentle hand on the side of her face. _

_ "Dora," he started softly, eyes still warm and amused but no longer teasing. "Haven't I ever told you that the fact that you _don't _do anything halfway is just one of the things I love about you?" _

_ Suddenly, everything was bold. The lights of the room, the sound of her own heart, his eyes, a more vibrant blue at his sudden proximity...everything was loud and silent at the same time. The room seemed frozen, still, and the beat of her own heart sounded in her ears along with his voice, _just one of the things I love about you _reverberating in her head as she looked at him in surprise. _

_ Had he just said that? Had he, Remus Lupin, really just used the word _love_ in regards to her, Nymphadora Tonks? The thought petrified her, in the best way, but she was frozen, shocked, afraid to hope, to _dream_ that he was saying what she thought he was. _

_ She looked at him, into his eyes, and he seemed similarly surprised by what he'd said, but he made no move to take it back, to amend it. Instead, despite the fear in his eyes, the uncertainty, he opened his mouth again, saying, in a surprisingly level voice, "It's something we have in common."_

_ And then he kissed her. _

_ Tonks was, for the briefest of moments, too startled to react, but then, as if she'd known what he was planning all along, she began to kiss him back. His lips were warm and gentle, but he was not as shy as she would've guessed, and he slid his other arm around her waist to hold her close as she wrapped her own arms around him. And as they stood there, in the warm kitchen, clinging to each other, the smell of burnt toast lingering lazily in the air, Tonks thought that Remus was right - there were some things no amount of death or despair could change. _

She'd been wrong, of course.

Not two weeks later Dumbledore had called Remus back after a meeting, a meeting he'd been holding her hand under the table during, and asked him to live with Greyback's pack.

The next day, after being distant, he'd told her, rigidly, that he was leaving, and that he was dangerous, a monster, and that he was too poor for her, anyway, that he was too old.

_It was a dream, Nymphadora, _he'd said when she'd protested that those things hadn't mattered to him that day in the kitchen. _That's all it ever was. A dream. _

And then, as marvellously as he'd come into her life, he'd turned, without looking back, and walked out of it.

She hadn't heard from him for months.

When she had, the first time, at Christmas, he'd been _grey _again. But this time, instead of colouring when he saw her, she'd been _brown, _and desperate, and pleading, and it hadn't at all been like in the kitchen so many months before. They'd argued, and she'd cried, and they'd yelled, and he'd kept up with his damned excuses and refused to be with her.

This had happened again every time they saw each other.

Sometimes, Tonks had told Molly, she'd wanted to give up. But she never had, because Molly had always told her he'd come around if she was patient. And while patience wasn't her strong-suit, she _was_ loyal, and she _was_ determined, and he _was _worth it. So she'd fought, fought desperately for him, though at times it felt like she wouldn't be able to keep fighting.

And then, like that, in the hospital wing, she'd fought some more.

_And yet nothing changed, _she thought to herself dully.

She walked, still a bit dazed, down a few flights of stairs and towards the entrance hall. Her feet were carrying her aimlessly, as she hadn't really considered where she was going or why she was going there, and her stupor wasn't broken until moments later when a voice she wasn't sure she wanted to hear called her name.

"Dora!" Remus yelled, and she, despite the petulant voice in her head telling her to ignore him, reluctantly came to a halt and turned around, unable to find the source of his voice as it ricocheted off the stone walls of the castle.

Eventually she located him a few floors above her, leaning over the railing of a staircase briefly before disappearing. She heard a few more footsteps and then he reappeared, one floor closer, his head popping over the railing as if to ensure she was still there, staring at him in dumb surprise.

But as she was snapped back to what was going on, to reality, and as he got closer, moving down another floor, her emptiness, her hurt, her resign - it was all suddenly, fiercely, channeled into one emotion, one feeling.

_Anger_.

Pure, exasperated anger. He'd rejected her, in front of all those people, just to run after her like_ this_? Now, of all times?

She turned to go again and made it a few more steps towards the front doors before Remus reached the ground floor and skidded to a halt a few paces away, panting, calling, once more, "Dora, wait!"

And the anger intensified.

She whirled around, snapping, "For what, Remus? For what? For you to reject me again? To hurt me again? I don't need to hear it anymore. I know what you'll say and I can't-can't hear it again."

She was proud to hear how vicious her voice sounded until it cracked at the end and the illusion fell, her pain evident. She turned for a second time, tears clouding her vision, when his voice, desperate and pleading, reached her.

"Dora, please. Don't walk away."

There was a beat of silence.

A moment in which she paused but did not turn. A moment in which she let herself hope that he would change things. But instead, the voice in her head reminded her of the past, of the, as he'd so kindly put it, _million _times he'd turned her down, the _million _times he'd walked away.

So she did not turn back to him, and instead took the last steps to the door, opening it and turning, briefly, to look into his eyes as she told him, "You showed me how."

And then, without giving herself a chance to feel guilty at the stricken look on his face, she turned and stepped into the black night, walking briskly down the sloping hill's path towards Hogsmeade village.

* * *

_A/N: What'd you think? A bit angsty, I know, but it will have a happy ending! Plus, there was that flashback, which was happy...sort of...in a way..._

_Anyway, how was it? Are you mad at Tonks for being so angry with Remus, or can you understand where she's coming from? What about the scene at the Burrow? Believable? Anyone catch the subtle LOTR reference? What about the subtle Starkid reference? I'd love to hear what you think!_

_Part II should be up within a week. _

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Part II

_A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read/reviewed last chapter!_

_This one follows directly after Tonks' take down of Remus in the entrance hall and subsequent exit from Hogwarts to walk towards Hogsmeade. It ends a bit more optimistically than the last, but Part III is the fluffy one! _

_Part II is dedicated to ani, StrawberryFields, and Hannah (yes, medal to you for both references!), all of whom left awesome reviews on Part I but who I couldn't PM to thank. Thank you guys so much for the feedback!_

* * *

**Part II**

Nymphadora Tonks didn't make it very far before she heard the doors groan on their hinges as they were pushed open once more and someone else slipped out behind her onto the Hogwarts grounds. Hurried footfalls joined her own and Tonks sped up, gritting her teeth. It seemed Remus Lupin had got over the shock of her words and thought to follow her again.

Though Tonks was valiantly battling the guilt bubbling up inside her for cutting him enough with her words to leave him stunned for the thirty seconds or so she'd had alone on the path to Hogsmeade, a more vindictive part of herself told her he deserved it. Said vindictive part once more got the upper hand and she found herself whirling around again, facing Remus, who'd almost caught up to her, with a steely gaze.

He was once more surprised at her abrupt stop and once more skidded to a halt, this time closer to her. His features were illuminated in an eerie blue light, and she reluctantly dropped her icy gaze to the fire he held cupped in his hand.

There was a time when she would've been impressed by his wandless magic, but for now she was still angry, though it was fading fast and she knew that if she wanted to say anything remotely put together and not pathetic, she'd have to do it quick.

Still, as he gazed at her, a pace away, face clearly confused and troubled, she felt slightly remorseful, as she knew he was caught off guard by this new anger she was displaying towards him.

She'd been angry in their other fights, sure, but never like this. The other times she'd been exasperated, desperate, but she was much more bitter now. And as he gazed at her, not saying anything, eyes not accusing or hurt but _confused_, searching, the anger continued to fade, replaced with shame.

Yet she did not like feeling shame. The anger was easier, less painful. So she clung to it as much as possible and, in a voice laced with bitterness that surprised even her, told him, "Y'know, I think I'd be mildly amused at the contrast here - you chasing after me for once - if...if things were different."

She ended weakly, uncertainly, the anger completely gone and replaced by guilt and mild annoyance when, though he'd clearly heard her, Remus said nothing and instead continued to stare at her.

Eventually, she felt awkward standing there, staring at him, while he did nothing but look at her in return. He didn't help her out, or apologise, or do anything to enlighten her as to why he'd followed, and so she gave a childish huff and turned away from him, ready to keep walking if he wasn't ready to talk.

As she took another step, the gravel crunching loudly beneath her feet, he finally spoke. "Are you angry with me?"

His voice was hoarse, rough, and though it was quiet, it stopped her in her tracks. The obvious answer, based on her behaviour, would be yes. But it seemed Remus knew her too well for that, because he'd never ask if he was sure, and she knew her behaviour was anything but easy to interpret. She'd been deflated when he'd turned her down again, numb when she'd left, then angry in the entrance hall...he had every right to ask.

Yet Tonks had no idea what the answer was, so instead of saying anything she stalled, asking, "Should I be?"

"Probably." He answered simply, still staring at her, trying to figure her out.

Tonks frowned in thought. She had been angry, a moment ago, but she wasn't, not anymore. Her anger had been almost fake, short-lived, and it'd burnt out so very easily. She wondered, idly, if she had really been angry at all, or if she'd just been trying to feel something other than hurt.

She exhaled, slowly, and any residual anger left with her breath. "Well, I'm not." She said eventually, glancing up at him for a moment before looking back towards the castle, afraid to meet his eyes. "I should be. I wish I was. But I'm not. I...I don't know how to be."

The words were simple but true. She _couldn't_, no matter how much she wanted to, be angry with him. No matter how many times he rejected her, no matter how many times his actions hurt her, he was doing them, she knew, because he thought he was doing the right thing. He thought he was protecting her. And she couldn't be angry with him because of that, no matter how much she thought he was being an idiot.

She could be exasperated, sure. But angry? She couldn't quite manage it.

After what she'd done to him, however...her insides twisted into knots as she thought of his face back in the hospital wing. It was more than just uncomfortableness, or awkwardness. He hadn't met her eyes, or anyone else's, and maybe, she thought, maybe it was because _he _was angry.

He didn't seem it now, but he'd never been very easy to read, especially with emotions he rarely showed - emotions like anger. And he _should _be angry with her. He had every right to be. She'd embarrassed him in front of everybody, and it was unprofessional - not to mention childish - to bring up something so personal in public.

Timidly, afraid to ask but knowing she needed to, Tonks' eyes flitted to Remus' as she whispered, "Are you-are _you _angry with _me_?"

She caught a brief glimpse of a wry grin on Remus' face before she looked down again, just as he parroted, "Should I be?"

Tonks gave a watery, weak-sounding laugh as she said, "Yes. Most people would be."

But Remus only sighed, beginning, very slowly, to walk to her side and then keep walking down the path, back towards Hogsmeade. "I'm not." He said, gesturing for her to walk beside him. "I don't know how to be either."

For the next moments the only sound was of the gravel crunching beneath their shoes as they walked, side by side, through the grounds and towards the gates. It was unnaturally silent, Tonks thought, and she was tempted not to disturb it, but she knew, now that she'd calmed down, that she wouldn't be able to keep from being bothered by her conscience if she didn't at least apologise.

After trying to sort the words out a few times and then just giving up in favour of going with it, Tonks blurted, "I'm really sorry, Remus. I shouldn't have said those things in front of everybody. I embarrassed you horribly, no doubt, and it wasn't fair of me."

Tonks didn't dare look at him as she said it, but after she finished and it was quiet again she stole a glance to her right and saw that he was looking at her intently. "You didn't embarrass me." He said very quietly.

Shaking her head ruefully, Tonks looked down at her toes and muttered, "You don't have to try and make me feel better."

"But you didn't." He said, still looking at her with a slight frown. "You didn't embarrass me. There's nothing embarrassing at all about you being in love with me."

Tonks didn't back down. "Maybe not for you."

Her voice sounded more irritable than she meant it to, and her words only served to furrow Remus' brow further as he asked, "What do you mean?"

"You just look...I dunno, noble, I s'pose." She explained, wondering how to explain it to him. Because as she said it, she realised that even if _he _wasn't embarrassed, _she _most certainly was. "But me? I'm-I'm pathetic. I chase you around like a school girl with a crush only to be turned down, and then I get _brown_, and-and horrible, and-"

Abruptly, Tonks stopped speaking as she realised Remus was no longer next to her. He'd stopped walking, and she turned to find him a few steps behind her, stood firmly on the path, looking at her sternly. "Don't say those things about yourself."

Tonks blinked. "But you're allowed to say worse about _yourself_?"

Remus looked at her as if she was crazy. "That's different. All my things are true."

"Mine are, too!" Tonks protested, gaining energy from his expression, which showed her she'd shaken him.

"They're not-" Remus started, but Tonks cut him off.

"They are. They _are_." She said, taking a step back towards him, looking him square in the eye, feeling the will to fight, which she'd lost after their argument in the hospital wing, returning to her. "They may not have been back when Sirius was alive and before you were given your mission and when I still-when I still had optimism, or fight, or spunk, or whatever you want to call it. But now?" Tonks shook her head, her voice quieting to a normal volume as she finished, "I'm not that strong anymore."

Remus looked astounded. "Dora...you - you're the strongest person I know."

"No. No, I'm not." Tonks said, giving a bitter laugh in attempt to hide the way her voice wavered. "I'm - every day I fall, Remus. I trip, or else someone dies, or I realise I can't stop the-the_ shit_ that happens in this world and I just...fall. I fall. And my knees keep getting bruised and I'm sore and I think-I think that by the end of this war my knees will always be bruised. Always. And sometimes when I fall I feel like I can't get up. Or else I don't know why I _should _get up, or how I can find the strength to get up and go on and heal my knees when I know - I _know_, Remus - that I'm just going to fall again."

Remus took a step towards her, eyes shining, gaze tender, and only when he reached for her did Tonks realise she was crying. She hadn't felt the tears start to fall, and Remus looked as if he wanted to wipe them away, but he seemed to think better of it because instead he stopped himself in favour of saying, quietly, "Dora..."

But Tonks couldn't hear it, couldn't hear _Dora_, said like that, like he used to say it, so soft and sweet and_ loving_. Because he didn't love her, he _couldn't_, and still push her away, or that's what she'd been telling herself. And it _hurt_, it hurt to hear him say it like he meant it, like he used to mean it, because it made her ache with longing, ache to the bones.

"No." Tonks said in a thick voice, shaking her head, stepping away from him. "No, Remus, don't-don't call me that. Not unless you mean it."

"But I do mean it. I've always meant it." He said, and said it with such conviction, with such strength, that she believed it, and knew she'd never really stopped believing it. "Nymphadora," he murmured, so tenderly that she couldn't scold him, "when I told you I loved you I meant it. I meant it, and it hasn't lost meaning since then. Gained meaning, if anything."

And there was another moment - a moment of soaring, sky-high hope, of hope so strong and brilliant and _pure _that Tonks felt it in her toes - but it was a moment, just a moment. And then it was over, and the hope was gone, sinking back into the earth, replaced with resign, and exhaustion, and reality.

"But that doesn't change anything, does it?" She asked him softly, in a voice surprisingly free from reproach. Instead, she sounded weary, and _old_, and she couldn't look at him so she studied her hands, white-knuckled and clenched. "You're just going to keep pushing me away and I - I'm just so _tired_, Remus. Tired of being cheery, tired of pretending to be okay. Tired of pretending your rejections don't hurt me a little more every time, tired of pretending to be strong and optimistic when in reality the world is crashing around me and people I love are dying and being hurt day after bloody day."

Tonks' voice shook but she ploughed on, desperate to get the words out while she had the strength to. "And most of all, I'm tired of pretending I can do this alone, because I _can't_. I _can't _and Dumbledore's dead and I don't know what we're going to do or if any of us will survive this war and I just can't _do _this anymore, Remus. And the one person who could get me through it...they won't let me in and it _hurts_. It's hurts so bad."

Her gaze still on her hands, which were now being hit with hot, salty tears, Tonks only saw through her peripherals as Remus slumped down onto a nearby rock, burying his face in his hands. He ran them through his hair, taking a rather ragged breath before looking up and meeting Tonks' eyes with his own, tormented ones.

"Dora..." He said again, but this time his voice sounded so weak and _broken _that she once more couldn't bear to scold him for it. "I - I'd rather live in hell, in absolute_ hell,_ than ever see you hurt. And-and what I didn't understand, what I_ couldn't_ understand, was that I was doing both - I was in hell and I hurt you, too.

"And that's the sad thing, really, that I always knew I'd hurt you. I always knew I would. But never, not once, did I think I would hurt you like _this._" He said miserably, gesturing vaguely to her appearance - her brown, mousy hair and her loose fitting clothes.

"And Dora, I wish, more than anything, that I could be everything you want me to be, everything you need me to be, everything you deserve...but I'm _not_. I don't know how to be." He muttered, voice cracking.

He looked so miserable that she had the sudden urge to go to him, but she was afraid that in doing so she'd break the spell and he'd stop talking. And she needed to hear this, needed to hear what he had to say, what was going through his mind.

So she stood, and watched him, afraid to breathe for fear he'd realise he was vulnerable and quit explaining. But he just took a deep breath, head still in his hands, and said, in a whisper, "I'm scared, Nymphadora. I'm scared because I know how it feels to-to live in sorrow, in loss, in misery. That's been my life, do you understand?"

Suddenly he looked at her wildly, desperately, and her heart broke for him, for the pain in his eyes, for the fear, but she said nothing and instead he kept talking, his eyes pleading with her to understand.

"I'm scared that-that I'm going to lose you like I've lost everyone else - like I lost James, and Lily, and Dorcas, and Marlene, and Frank, and Alice, and Sirius, and now Dumbledore - and I can't do it. I can't lose you. I'm not strong enough, Nymphadora, to lose you like I lost them."

Tonks felt the tears rush down her own face, faster than ever before, and she found herself sinking to the ground in front of him, kneeling to look into his eyes which were wet with tears of his own.

"I'm not strong enough to have to go and put flowers on _your _grave, to avoid the places _we'd _visited together, to turn off the wireless when I hear _your _favourite song and fight the pain when I see little things that remind me of _you. _I'm not strong enough for that. So please, Dora,_ please_. Don't ask me to be."

Upon seeing his raw expression, the tears on his face, the pain in his eyes, Tonks felt her heart ache a little more for him, for his torment, for his fears. "Remus..." She said, her own voice sounding just as broken. But she didn't know what else to say, and instead reached for him, wiping his tears away as he almost had done for her earlier.

He closed his eyes the second her fingers brushed his skin and whispered, voice cracking, "I can't lose you. I can't."

But Tonks pulled her hand away from him, meeting his eyes as they reopened, shaking her head and softly but honestly telling him, "You already have. You already _are_. You lose me a little more every time you turn me down, every time you shut me out...you're losing me."

Remus raked a trembling hand through his hair. "That's - I don't want that, I don't, and I want to give in, I do, but I-I meant everything I said. I could hurt you. I _have _been hurting you. And I need you to admit to me that you understand how much I could hurt you, that you understand how being with me could bring you pain."

Tonks shook her head again, standing up, saying, "Remus, do you honestly think that I haven't thought of moving on when you've hurt me like you have? Do you honestly think I haven't wanted, tried to, done all I could to forget you and not feel the way I do? It would be so, so much easier for me to not love you, to give up - but I _can't_. And_ I'm_ sorry, because I know you wish I didn't love you, but I-I have to. I need _you _to tell _me _that _you_ understand that I have thought about this seriously. This isn't some crush and if I cared about your age or your lycanthropy I wouldn't be here right now." She said, and she saw him opening his mouth, no doubt to protest, so she spoke louder.

"I know you do care about those things, trust me, you've made that clear, but I just wish you'd believe me when I say that I _don't. _And if you can honestly understand that I can take care of myself and make my own decisions, and if you can honestly understand how I feel and still don't want me...well, then I _can_ promise I'll leave you alone." She said, words tasting bitter and painful as they came out.

It was true, she thought. She could stop bothering him, stop arguing with him every chance she got. "I can't promise I'll stop loving you," she told him, for she knew she couldn't, "but I can give up. Only not until I know you believe that I don't care."

"Dora..." Remus started, but she cut him off.

"No, Remus. I need you to tell me, one way or the other, because I can't _do _this anymore. _I'm_ not strong enough."

She needed him to take it to heart, to honestly tell her he understood. If she knew and _believed _that he knew she didn't care and still couldn't be with her...well, there wouldn't be anything for her to do anyway. But she had to know that before she gave up, because if there was even a chance that he didn't believe her, that he simply didn't understand, then she would fight, with all the strength she had, to make him.

So she found resolve again, and squared her shoulders, preparing to leave, telling him, "I'll be at the next Order meeting, and-and I'll be around after that. And when you've thought about it and taken what I've said to heart, we can talk. But I can't keep having this argument. I've given all I have, done all I can to make you understand, and now - now it's up to you."

And then, for the first time, Nymphadora Tonks turned, confidently, and walked away from Remus Lupin, this time leaving him with the tears on his face, thoughts swirling in his head, and shock building in his system.

~ o0o ~

It had been three hours since Nymphadora Tonks had left him stunned on the Hogwarts grounds, and Remus Lupin had done nothing but sit, his head in his hands, and consider her words.

He didn't know why this time it felt so completely different.

They had, as Dora had so kindly pointed out, had the same conversation _millions _of times. She always argued his points, and he always held to them steadfastly. Why did he suddenly feel as though it was not she who was being stubborn, but he?

And why did it have such an air of finality this time? The other times he'd known she'd continue to fight, known they'd keep coming back to each other...and now, now that he didn't know that...it was what he wanted, wasn't it? For her to give up? So why did it feel so unbearable?

He sighed, trying to keep his thoughts in line. He still didn't quite believe that Dumbledore was dead, that their leader, the one person who gave them hope, was gone. Shock over the headmaster's death was being obscured, however, by his confusion over what'd just happened with Dora. Why did it feel so different, so strange? Was it shock or something more? Why did he feel guilty this time, not for hurting her, like usual, but for not changing his mind?

There was, of course, the fact that _everybody_ had taken her side; and while Remus wasn't a man to think himself wrong if others disagreed, he did find it troubling that_ everybody_ seemed to think he was being ridiculous. Could they not see what he'd turned her into, a shell of her formerly bright and vibrant self? Could they not understand that being with him would hurt her?

But they _couldn't _understand, because they weren't him. They couldn't understand what it was like to be shunned in public, to be hated without reason, to be so unanimously and unquestioningly ostracised for something beyond their control. They'd only seen him amongst themselves, and they were the minority.

Of course, Dora _did _know that. She'd been out with him in public before, when he'd been refused entry to a store because of his lycanthropy. And she'd yelled at the man who'd kicked Remus out and got herself kicked out, too. But they hadn't been together then, they'd just been friends. Why didn't it trouble her like it did him?

She always said she wasn't exactly accepted either, with the loud hair colours and mixed blood status and 'shape-shifting freakiness', as she called it, but it was so very different. Her transformations were a gift; his were a curse. He couldn't, no matter how many times she gave him examples of when she'd been shunned for her powers, honestly believe that there was a parallel. Not one strong enough to make it okay for him to drag her down with him, anyway. That would be the epitome of selfishness.

And yet was it not also selfish for him to refuse to give her a chance? A real chance? They'd dated for _weeks _after Sirius' death, barely even two, though they had, Remus reminded himself, been in love for much longer. They had both always known that if they did get together, it'd be for the long haul - they'd talked of and prepared for forever that summer. But then Dumbledore had brought it all crashing down with one request, with one mission. That had been the wake-up call, as he'd told her. It had been perfect, bliss, as he'd always known it'd be, but it'd only ever been a dream.

But his mission was over now. He hadn't thought of it when they'd all been there, fighting, in the astronomy tower, but Greyback had seen him. There was no going back to the pack, he knew, and yet...how much did that change?

He was still 13 years her senior. And no matter how much she liked to tell him age was just a number, it was not only the number that worried him. He'd been so _aged _by the first war, so _aged _by the pain of losing those he loved, of spending years alone, of dealing with a curse as a child that no man should have to deal with. His childhood had ended at age 6, upon his first transformation, his mother's breakdown, and his father's irreparable guilt. He'd learnt, as a child, what life would have in store for him, and though his father had loved him, the fact that his mother had left when he was 8 had scarred him worse than anything else. Mothers were supposed to love their children, and his own had abandoned him after two years of trying - and failing - to love him despite his curse. If she couldn't love him, how could he ever believe that someone else could? That someone else _would_?

And he was still poor. He lived off of charity these days...money from Dumbledore for his work with the Order, his childhood home that his father left him in his will, a fund Sirius and James set up for him upon graduation, knowing he'd never be able to find consistent work...and Remus, he had to admit, had pride. And he _hated _living off of charity and not being able to provide for those he loved. Birthdays, Christmas, dates...those were nightmares, not because he couldn't think of what he wanted to give loved ones, but because he _couldn't _give it to them. And Dora had maintained that it didn't matter to her, but could he really let her take him on as another burden? An Auror made a fair amount, true, but it was more on principle. But wasn't that a bit of reverse sexism, of chauvinism, on his part? And, if they won the war, wouldn't he be able to find work and make up for it?

But he was poor in other ways, too, not just in gold. He wasn't sure how much he had to offer her emotionally if he continued the way he had been. If he kept his guard up and didn't let her in, didn't let himself love her with all he was, with all he could, then he'd be poor.

But he could be rich, too. He knew that. He knew he had more to offer if he'd only let himself; Dumbledorehad told him so. _You have more to offer than you give yourself credit for, Remus_, he'd said. _Don't stop yourself from living or from loving by assuming that you can't. _

Remus was tempted to smile at the memory of his old mentor, but there was still grief and shock, from the loss, and though his words had been kind, Remus _was _still dangerous. Nobody could deny that a werewolf was a dangerous creature. But Dora _knew _that. She was an Auror, for Merlin's sake, and she knew better than to try to be with him on the full moon, if for no other reason than that she knew he'd never forgive himself for hurting her. And, as she'd pointed out, it _was _only once a month.

Once, when he and Dora had first met and she'd asked, rather bluntly, why he didn't have a girlfriend, he'd told her wryly that no woman would want to be with a man who turned into a monster once a month. And, in a complete deadpan, she'd responded, _well that's rather hypocritical of us, don't you think? _And he'd choked on his drink at the time, thinking it absurd that she'd compare a woman's menstrual cycle to the lunar cycle. And he'd told her so. But she'd just shrugged, responding, _well, Remus, it's like everything else: it is what you make it. Doesn't have to be a big deal if you don't want it to be. _

And he'd been so taken-aback by it, by her response, that he'd changed the subject, rather obviously, and she'd sniggered at his awkwardness. But she was right, wasn't she? It didn't have to be a big deal. He knew that she'd respect his wishes to be locked and warded into a secure location, even if he took Wolfsbane, and that she wouldn't get herself injured. His other dangerous argument, about Greyback, had recently been undermined...Bill had been injured by the same man, which had nothing to do with Remus, and Dora, as she'd pointed out various times, was in enough danger daily because they were in a war.

She was right. He didn't have to make it a big deal. _He _was causing it to be an issue, because he couldn't let it go.

One summer, after his 6th year, Remus'd told his father, rather bluntly, that he knew he'd never marry. He'd been proud of himself, at the time, for having such a realistic outlook on life, for being willing to protect other people even if it meant denying himself something he couldn't say he didn't want. And yet he'd been shocked when his father had looked sadder and greyer and _old _as he'd listened to his son's declaration, and when Remus'd asked him what was wrong, his father had said something frighteningly similar to what Dumbledore'd said, about stopping himself from living, and then he'd done something he hadn't done since Remus was a small boy.

He'd _read _to him. His father, a muggle born, had never outgrown his love for muggle literature, and he'd gone to find a specific, well-worn book, flipped to a dog-eared page and, in a soft voice, had read, _Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine. _And he hadn't said anything else, but just shut off Remus' light and told him he loved him, and goodnight.

But the words came back to him, for the first time in years, and they suddenly had all new meaning. _Most of the shadows of this life are caused by our standing in our own sunshine. _Was it really not society that was keeping him from being happy, but himself?

And if his whole argument was that it would be selfish to be with Dora, to be a burden to her, he realised he'd been looking at it all wrong. If, by his own estimations, he was going to make her miserable either way, was it not better to at least give them a chance? If he was right, and he was a burden, couldn't she just leave him? She'd said so, once..._You know, Remus, _she'd said, _it's not like I wouldn't leave you if you made me miserable. _And at the time the words had seemed absurd, but he should trust her, shouldn't he? He should trust her to leave him if it was too much, if she was unhappy. He owed that to her, to give her that choice.

And that's what it came down to, wasn't it? _Her _choice. He'd been making the choice for both of them, all this time, by not letting it go anywhere. And _that_ was selfish. He'd been choosing for them both, based on the assumption that she'd be unhappy with him and leave him and break his heart. He hadn't wanted to give her the chance to hurt him, the chance to make him lose her. Yet she was right, wasn't she? He was losing her anyway. And not giving them a chance, in order to prevent _himself_ from getting hurt, was selfish, not noble.

She'd been saying it all along, but he'd never really seen it. He'd tucked her words away, in the back of his head, and never really taken the time to let them sink in, to take them to heart.

And now, as he sat, watching the sun rise over the Hogwarts grounds, feeling his limbs sore from lack of use and eyes burn from lack of sleep, he realised, with a shake of the head, that he'd been a fool. A complete and utter fool. He'd been too blinded by the past, by his own suffering, to let himself take Dora seriously, to let himself understand that it was possible for him to have what he'd always wanted, what he'd always denied himself.

As if on cue, a silvery-white lynx appeared and, in Kingsley's booming voice, said, "_Minerva contacted me to tell me what's happened. We're cleaning out Grimmauld Place in an hour. As secret keeper's dead and Snape can now reveal its location, it is no longer safe. Alastor and some others will be there, meet us if you can._"

Smiling, despite the reminder of Dumbledore's death, Remus stood and stretched, feeling his joints and muscles protesting but not minding too much. He had to go to his childhood home, to get something, before meeting the others at Grimmauld Place. He could only hope Dora would be there.

Apparating, Remus thought, smile widening, that it was a good thing his mother had returned the Lupin family heirloom to his father before she left them - or else he'd have to shop for a different ring.

* * *

_A/N: How'd you like it? Catch the title reference? Did you like the Emerson quote? It's one of my personal favorites, and I thought it sort of worked for Remus here. _

_Speaking of Remus, did his change of heart seem believable? Sorry he's so wordy! It probably seems a bit like he's trying to convince himself it's okay to be with Tonks, which, in a way, he is. He's obviously making a rash decision, by his standards, but in DH he says that he married Tonks "against his better judgment". I take that to mean he'd made the decision quickly, not that he doesn't love her or something, so if it seems quick that's a reference to his comments later on. Anyway, I'd love to know what you think!_

_The final part (Part III) should be up soon. Thanks for reading!_


	3. Part III

_A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who read & reviewed last chapter!_

_This chapter starts the morning after Dumbledore's death and occurs back in Tonks' POV. _

_Finally the fluffy, shamelessly sappy ending I'd imagined when writing this piece! Well, as fluffy as my writing can get, anyway..._

_Part III is dedicated to ani, Hannah, and StrawberryFields, who I couldn't PM to thank for their glorious reviews on Part II. Thank you so much for the feedback!_

* * *

**Part III**

Nymphadora Tonks yawned and rubbed her eyes frustratedly as she shuffled around her flat, having just received a patronus from Kingsley telling her to be at Grimmauld Place in an hour. She'd gone home, not having bothered to stop by her temporary room in Hogsmeade, cried a bit, fallen asleep fully clothed and still covered in dirt and dried blood on her couch, and then woken to the message.

Now, as she stepped out of the shower and resigned herself to the mousy brown hair she was still unable to morph away, she could feel every effect of the fight down to her bones. Her limbs had never protested more than they were as she dragged on some jeans and a baggy jumper, shivering despite the summer month.

It was probably at least 5:00 in the morning, and though she was tempted to be annoyed at being woken so early, she knew she had no right to be. Albus-freaking-_Dumbledore_ had died last night, and they had to clean headquarters as quickly as possible now that they had no secret keeper and Snape, the rotten bastard, had betrayed them.

She sighed as she took in her appearance in the mirror, yet she felt less awful than she had in months. Remus hadn't given in, no, but he had at least opened up to her a bit more. And now that she understood him, if only marginally, she didn't feel as horrible as usual.

That didn't mean she wasn't still depressed. She _ached _when she thought of how close she'd been to convincing him to give in, of how he'd called her Dora and looked at her with such _tenderness_.

Of how he'd said he loved her.

No, things were definitely not better, but they were more bearable. She could live for a while, like this, knowing he at least cared, even if he wouldn't be with her. And, she thought optimistically, she could rest a bit easier about his safety. Not a lot, since it was still a war, but at least he couldn't go back to the pack. His identity had been compromised and he'd be safer in the wizarding world, she thought with a small smile.

But seeing him this morning would be hard, and she was sure he _would _be there to help out however he could, like he always was. It would be hard to see him; to see, in his eyes, the ghost of what he _could _be, if only he'd let himself, the ghost of what _they _could be.

She shook her head, checking the time. She had to be there soon, and she wouldn't let Remus' answer - or lack thereof - hang over her as she waited for the fight to be over. Either way, she knew, things would change soon. He'd either give in, she thought with a flutter in her stomach, or he'd tell her no. And as anguishing as that would be, at least she wouldn't have to live with the _not knowing_.

A part of her wondered what he would say, but she couldn't let herself think about it too much. She didn't want to depress herself by assuming he'd turn her down or give herself any more false hope by assuming he'd give in. She just had to wait, to be patient.

Tonks, for a Hufflepuff, was very _im_patient.

She sighed and checked her watch once more as she stepped out of her flat, redid the wards, and trudged around the corner to an alleyway where she could apparate.

When she arrived on Grimmauld Place and looked around herself, wand out just in case, she found the street eerily silent. It was gloomier than she'd expected out, as if the _world _was mourning Dumbledore, and she shivered again as she walked quickly and quietly to Number 12, watched it appear, and slipped inside, wondering if she'd be the first person there.

Upon hearing voices in the kitchen, she realised she wasn't.

"All right, Kingsley?" A hoarse voice asked.

Her stomach lurched.

Her palms sweated.

She felt a bit sick.

_So much for not letting Remus' lack of an answer hang over you_, she thought to herself sarcastically.

It'd all seemed good and fine back at her flat, but now, as she stood, ready to walk down the hall and face him, she didn't know if she could. Well, she knew she _could, _she just didn't know how she would. How on earth was she supposed to act around him?

She could ignore him, but that was childish and wouldn't get them anywhere.

She could act as if it hadn't happened, but how on earth would she pull that off if she had such an insane reaction to merely hearing his voice?

She could act hurt, but that would only make him feel guilty, and she didn't want him to make a decision because he pitied her.

She could act bubbly, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep that up for long, and it might lead him to thinking that what'd happened hadn't affected her, which couldn't be further from the truth.

She could avoid him, and that was very tempting; but if he took a long time to make his decision, avoiding him would be both impractical and detrimental to the Order. Besides, now that he was home-

"Are you planning on standing there all day or were you thinking of helping clean?" A gruff voice asked from behind her.

Tonks jumped about a foot upon hearing her mentor's voice in her ear and whirled around to find him stood just behind her, waiting for her to move out of the entrance hall.

"Merlin's beard, Mad-Eye, was that really necessary?" She asked reproachfully once she'd calmed down enough to hear something over the rapid thudding of her own heart.

"Constant vigilance!" He roared, stumping past her and towards the kitchen. "You'll get yourself killed."

"It's good to see you too, thanks." Tonks muttered.

It felt odd to be sarcastic with Mad-Eye, yet she knew that, if she had any hope of making it through the day, she'd have to start somewhere. And teasing her mentor was like falling back into an old habit.

"I saw you earlier this week." Mad-Eye growled as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Tonks rolled her eyes at him, knowing he'd be watching her with his magical eye and the gesture wouldn't be lost. "I was more referring to the fact that last night-"

"-last night we were betrayed by one of our own and this place is no longer safe!" He barked over her, rough words contradicted by the fact that he held the door to the kitchen open and waited for her to pass before stumping after her into the room.

Tonks looked back at him, mostly to avoid seeing Remus or Kingsley, and said, "Yeah, well, we'd better get to it then, hadn't we? Anyone else coming?"

Before Mad-Eye could say anything, Kingsley was answering for him. "The Weasleys are watching after Bill, Minerva's at the school, and we haven't contacted many others yet. Looks like it'll just be us."

Tonks turned to him and nodded, still not meeting Remus' eyes. "Right." She muttered much more meekly, inner strength being replaced by hurt and a heavy feeling in her stomach upon being near him once more.

"Tonks and I cleaned the things we wanted out of Sirius' room after he died, so there's no need to go to his bedroom or the attic." Remus began, voice just as steady as any other day.

She still refused to meet his eyes, wincing internally upon hearing him call her _Tonks. _Not that he ever called her Dora in front of anyone, but still...

"Regulus' room was never used, and I moved my things from my temporary room here to my own home before going on my mission last year." Remus continued softly, and Tonks, through the corner of her eye, could've sworn he was looking at _her_. "The kids and Molly and Arthur all moved out permanently after Sirius' death, so unless you have things here, all the bedrooms should be clear."

It took Tonks a moment to realise that he was speaking directly to her, and when she finally did look up, Kingsley and Mad-Eye were staring back at her in expectation.

She didn't even look at Remus as she muttered, "No, I moved all my things out before being stationed in Hogsmeade."

"So just the library, drawing room, and kitchen, then." Mad-Eye growled. "Kingsley, you take the kitchen, Remus and Tonks, take the library and drawing room. I'm going to set up a few spells in case Snape decides to make a visit."

Tonks nodded numbly and, without bothering to look at Remus, turned and walked out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and onto the second floor. She wondered if she should say anything to him or just take one room and assume he'd take the other, but he spared her the decision by speaking.

"Which would you prefer, drawing room or library?" He asked quietly.

_Always the gentleman_, Tonks thought bitterly, but instead of saying anything she shrugged, looking at the floor. She hated herself for being so difficult, so immature, yet she was afraid that if she met his eyes the dam would break and she'd be crying, or cursing, or yelling or something. After last night's outburst, she wasn't sure she could trust her self-restraint.

"Tonks?" He asked gently.

It made her ache_._

Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head, mutely heading towards the library and hoping he'd take the hint. He did, albeit tentatively, and she sighed in relief, wiping her eyes furiously as she began to collect papers, mugs, and any other objects that would give anyone information on the Order.

Her vision was blurred as she worked, her hands shaking, and she wondered how on earth his kindness could have such an effect on her. She supposed it had something to do with the fact that he _was _so gentle, so kind, and if he'd only let himself, he could be making her the happiest witch on earth.

As it was, she felt she couldn't let herself enjoy it for fear she'd get carried away and think he meant something by it. At this thought she felt such a pang that she sank into an armchair, burying her face in her hands as Remus had done the night before.

How could he be so composed? How could he act as if it wasn't tearing him apart to see her? Was he at peace with himself because he'd made his decision? She wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Tonks cursed herself, remembering they were in a hurry and that she couldn't dally. She stood up abruptly, losing hold of a mug as she did so, and winced when it shattered loudly on the table and cut her hand as she attempted to stop its fall.

_Bloody brilliant_, she thought glumly as she studied the angry red gash on her palm. _And on my wand hand, too. _

In the hall she heard Remus leave the drawing room, shrinking the last of the papers and putting them in a pocket as he did so, and turn towards the library. She tried, with her left hand, to heal the cut, but she was still shaking from before and couldn't summon the concentration to heal it.

"Tonks?" She heard Remus ask from the doorway, concern colouring his voice. "Are you all right?"

Knowing she couldn't just nod and pretend it was okay, for she still hadn't vanished the papers she'd found and her blood was now trickling down her hand, Tonks tried to speak but only succeeded in making a pathetic, muted sound. It appeared the tears had clogged her throat.

"What?" He asked, walking towards her.

Tonks cleared her throat and tried again. "I just - I cut my hand." She offered pathetically, holding it out a bit to show him and still not meeting his eyes.

"Oh," he said softly, taking another step to move right in front of her. "Can I see it?"

She nodded, still not looking at him, and jumped a bit when he took it _oh so _gently in his own, fingers barely touching her as he turned her hand over in his. His touch was feather-light, as if he was afraid to touch her, to violate her personal space or something, and suddenly everything felt surreal again.

He was touching her politely, reservedly, _reluctantly,_ as if she was some stranger and he couldn't, by just saying the word, have it be okay to touch her whenever he pleased. He was doing this as if it was wildly intimate, as if he'd never held her hand or kissed her or told her he loved her before.

The thought brought more tears to her eyes, and she felt truly pathetic and frustrated and ashamed and she just wanted to go home, or to Molly, to have a good cry and feel better about it.

Instead, Remus had stood back after finishing healing her hand and was looking at her and seeing her tears, no doubt, because when she forgot not to and looked at him his eyes were tender. And she couldn't do if for much longer, couldn't keep calm, couldn't keep the tears at bay when seeing him look at her like that hurt so horribly.

So instead she looked down, took a deep breath, and asked, as steadily as possible, "Could-could you maybe finish up here? I can't - I have to go..."

And then she didn't even wait for his response, instead brushing past him and hurrying out of the library and down the stairs, angrily wiping away her tears as she went, just as she heard Kingsley call, "Remus? Tonks? Are you about ready?"

She made it to the door where Kingsley and Mad-Eye were waiting and nodded to them both, saying, "I've got to go, I'll be in touch, yeah?"

Mad-Eye looked a bit bewildered, and she noticed his magical eye glance back up towards the library skeptically, but Kingsley nodded at her, and she recalled blindly that he had, at some point, figured out what'd happened with her and Remus from someone, as he'd looked out for her in the Auror office throughout her stay in Hogsmeade.

So she took that as good enough and fled, finally succumbing to the tears as she walked down the concrete steps and onto the street, deciding that a walk home would be best in her current state.

A few moments later, however, she heard voices back in the entrance to the house and, after a hurried-sounding goodbye and two distinct _crack_s of disapparition, she regretted her decision not to apparate when she heard Remus call, "Dora?"

His voice was much closer than she expected, and when she turned she found him just a pace away. Ashamed at her lack of composure, she went to keep walking, but he grabbed her arm and, when she gave a strangled sob, wrapped his arms around her.

At first she resisted him, afraid to let him comfort her, afraid of what it would mean, but he didn't let her go, and instead held her shaking frame firmly to him. Eventually, she gave up fighting him, instead clutching onto his shirt as if for dear life, sobbing into his chest as he rested his cheek on her head and rubbed her back.

"Dora, I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." He murmured, over and over, holding her and waiting for her to regain composure.

When she finally did, and pulled back from him, embarrassed, he didn't fully let go of her, but kept her close as he said, "I wanted to ask you to talk to me when we were leaving, but if I'd known you were so upset - I should've just apparated to your flat this morning, like I'd planned, only Molly told me yesterday that you weren't sleeping well and I didn't want to wake you."

Tonks shook her head, rubbing her eyes, wondering what on earth was going on. If he wanted to talk to her, he'd have made his decision, and if he'd comforted her...she was afraid to let herself interpret it that way. Maybe he just didn't want to hurt her more than he was already planning to. That seemed almost cruel, though, to embrace her like that and calm her down only to let her down. But the alternative was too wonderful to consider, and her brain was sluggish from lack of sleep, and she really just wanted him to say it.

She did, however, feel a bit better, having cried it out, so when he asked, "Do you trust me?" she was able to look at him and answer.

"Do you want me to answer that?" She asked, weak voice belied by her sarcastic response.

He smiled slowly, tentatively, as if wanting to make sure she was actually okay, actually joking with him, before wryly telling her, "Probably not."

"Good answer." She said with a weak smile of her own, and then, miraculously, a hoarse chuckle as she wiped the last tears from her eyes and looked back at him, gaining strength and _hope _from the twinkle in his eyes, the one that'd been missing since he went away on his mission.

She was feeling so light, in the end, that when he offered her his arm, she was able to take it and a deep breath before he apparated them away, away from her hopelessness and sorrow and pessimism.

When they arrived in a meadow, one that looked oddly familiar, Remus smiled, and his smile turned into a beam as they noticed that the clouds were parted and, in contrast to London, it was bright, and open, and the air smelled fresh, not muggy. The meadow was full of yellow and brittle grass, which was green in some places but not all over, and Tonks slowly began to recognise it, gaining her bearings and remembering that, a few yards through the trees, there was a suburb and dirt road and pub.

"Do you remember this place?" Remus asked after a moment, watching her very closely.

"One of our missions together, yeah." She recalled, smiling reminiscently at the memory. Without thinking, she continued, "It was Valentine's Day, and Sirius wouldn't let it go that we'd been scheduled to come here together."

Realising a moment too late what she'd said, Tonks bit her lip and looked down, wondering if she should've brought it up, but Remus only stepped closer to her and, when she dared look up, smiled.

"Sirius always was annoyingly perceptive," he said in a falsely reproachful tone. "Do you know, I never once mentioned to him how I felt about you, but he just _knew_?"

Tonks laughed quietly, remembering how, even early on, Sirius would tease them both mercilessly. She'd fancied Remus, sure, but she'd never dreamed he'd return her feelings. She'd thought she was just his best friend's kid cousin to him, even though he'd done nothing to make her feel inferior.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Remus looked at her from under his fringe, smiling absurdly shyly, and said, "It was here, you know."

Tonks' brow furrowed. "What was?"

"When I realised, for the first time, that I loved you." Remus said, glancing at her quickly before looking back at the field.

She could see, however, that his cheeks were pink, and though she wanted to swoon at his words, she was guarded - she still couldn't quite believe he was going to give in. So instead of pushing him in one way or another she said, in a falsely annoyed voice, "You'd've fooled me."

Remus seemed surprised by her joking response, though she knew he was aware that it was one of her defence mechanisms. "Oh?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded, smiling a bit, looking towards the trees and saying, "Sirius, too, the bastard. Whenever I asked him about you he'd never tell me anything. He dropped hints like mad, but I never knew if I should believe him or if he was just giving you a hard time. And - well, I always wanted to believe him, but you'd given me mixed signals, up until that day in the kitchen. When I burnt you toast."

She smiled at the thought, just as he said, "I couldn't believe that you really didn't care." He shook his head, probably at himself, she decided, before turning to her, gaze becoming more serious. "I still can't, at some level. I don't know if I'll ever understand it. I spent so long - so long, Dora - believing I'd never hear anyone say the things you said to me last night. And I don't-I don't know if I _can _believe you."

He paused, seeming to prepare himself for what he said next, and Tonks didn't dare breathe. He let out a slow exhale, before meeting her eyes, and, in a soft but steady voice, saying, "But I have thought about it - all night I've thought about it - and if you'll let me, I can try."

It was like in the kitchen again, the way her heart was suddenly beating loudly in her ears, the light shining brightly in her eyes, her breath dancing in her throat. And she still had to hear it, had to know for sure, so she managed to ask, "Remus...what're you saying?"

She searched his face with her eyes, needing an answer, and he didn't falter once as he told her, "I'm saying that I'll try. I'll try to be what you think I can be, what you think _we _can be. If you'll still have me, that is."

Tonks wasn't sure she could contain her excitement, her joy, her _radiance _as she smiled wider than she thought she ever had, struggling to form the words, "If I'll have you?" She gave a watery chuckle as she asked him, "Remus, d'you really think I'd stick around this long just to turn you down?"

His slow, relieved smile broadened into a slightly sheepish grin as he opened his arms and told her, "Come here."

He barely finished the words before Tonks was throwing her arms around his neck, laughing and crying at the same time, wondering whether there was a word that could describe the aching joy and relief and love and _exultance_ she felt in her heart, in her lungs, in her entire body and she hugged Remus tighter than she'd ever hugged anything before. She felt him exhale and pull her tighter to him, and her face was buried in his chest and his in her neck and shoulder as he wrapped himself around her, not an ounce of hesitation in his movements as he _held_ her.

"I love you. You know that, right?" He asked eventually, and she could hear his smile.

"I know." She said, her voice muffled by his shirt. She squeezed him one last time, smile growing even more as she felt a telltale tingling, signalling the return of her morphing abilities. She was sure her hair was a bright, bubblegum pink as she leaned back, looked into his face, and told him, with an impish grin, "You do realise that now that I have you I don't plan on ever letting you go, right?"

She thought she'd never seen him smile so brightly as he responded, "I'd assumed as much."

"You had?" Tonks asked, surprised.

"Yes." He affirmed, stepping back from her to look into her face. "That's why I stopped by my parents' old home - my home - this morning."

"Your parents?" Tonks asked, trying to remember anything he'd told her about them. He'd talked of his father before, and she knew his death had devastated Remus, but he'd never really spoken of his mother. Sirius'd told her she'd left before Remus'd gone to Hogwarts, and Remus himself hadn't ever mentioned her besides that she'd, at least at first, tried, like his father, to cure his lycanthropy.

"Yes, I had to get something. You see, I'd made up my mind this morning - or last night, depending on how you look at it - so I stopped, just in case you'd give me a chance."

Tonks raised an eyebrow, not following him at all. "Oh?"

Remus just nodded, though, saying, "Nymphadora, do you remember when I told you I don't do anything half way?"

Tonks' brow furrowed further. "Vaguely...Remus, what're you doing?"

"I've been a fool, Dora." He said, looking slightly chagrined but still smiling. "To shut you out, to push you away, to waste all this time when I've no idea how much we have. I don't want to waste any more time. I don't want to spend another day of my life apart from you."

Tonks' eyebrows rose further and she turned her head at him, confused by his sudden change in tone and talk of the future. What on earth was he on about?

Remus, seeming unperturbed by her confusion, continued, "I've spent all my life telling myself I don't deserve to be happy, only to have you come along and force your way into my heart and refuse to be dislodged, no matter how hard I tried to resist you. You're everything I don't deserve, everything I've denied myself-"

Tonks, through the last bit, began to roll her eyes, even interrupting him with an admonishing, "Remus..."

But he spoke over her, saying, "-and yet you've finally convinced me to override my rationality." Tonks grinned, satisfied, as he continued, "And-and I know this is crazy, and sudden, and-"

He paused, biting his lip a bit, drawing one shaking hand she hadn't seen disappear out of his pocket, seeming suddenly nervous.

She, meanwhile, finally clicked onto what was going on and felt as though she might faint.

"-and I don't have much to offer you, and I can't promise you anything besides my assurance that I'm prepared to put you ahead of me for the rest of my life."

Tonks raised a shaking hand to cover her mouth, looking at him with what she was sure were comically wide eyes that were steadily filling with tears. She'd hoped, what she'd assumed was a fool's hope, that he'd give in. But do what he was doing? She would've never dreamed.

"But I want to be there, Dora." He was saying, smiling at her obvious elation. "I want to be there when you smile, when you have a bad day, when you trip and break things. I want to be there so you can make me fall in love with you a little more every day. I want to be there so you can burn toast for me, and so I can heal your bruised knees, and-"

Tonks, suddenly unable to contain herself, blurted, "Remus, can you please get on with it?"

He shook his head at the interruption, opening his fist to reveal a small, silver ring, with one diamond in it, shimmering in the sunlight, continuing as if she hadn't interrupted him by saying, "-and though this ring is old and not flashy or grand, it was my father's and lasted through his mother's marriage and her mother's before that and so on and it's appropriate. Because that's what you've done: you've lasted. And I want you to keep lasting. I _need_ you to keep lasting. And all this is really my-my broken and battered way of asking you to marry me. Nymphadora Tonks, would you once more offer me far too much and be my wife?"

There wasn't a single heartbeat before Tonks launched herself into Remus' arms, saying, in a thick, muffled, and teary voice, "I thought you'd never finish talking."

If it was possible to hear someone roll their eyes, Tonks was sure she'd have heard Remus do so, but instead he said, in an amused voice, "I take that as a yes, then?"

"Do you even have to ask?" She attempted to mutter, instead sounding breathless.

"Yes." He said in a more serious tone, and she pulled back to look into his eyes.

"Yes, of course I will!" Tonks' voice sounded absurdly joyous, even to her. "Remus, I love you. Why the _hell_ would I turn you down?"

To her amusement, and utter shock, he said, with a cheeky grin, "You don't really want me to answer that, do you?"

"You're a git." She laughed, hitting him lightly on the arm but stopping when, with shaking hands, he pushed the ring onto her finger.

Instead of making some sappy comment on how it fit perfectly, however, her _fiancé _(could she really call him that?) teased, "You're the one who interrupted me when I tried to propose. You know, I think you might be the first woman in history to interrupt a proposal."

It took Tonks, who was busy marvelling at how it felt to have a ring on her finger, to be prepared to _marry _someone - not just someone, but _Remus_, of all people, the man she loved more than life itself - a moment to register his words and she muttered, distractedly, "I'm a lot of things, Remus, but I've never been patient."

He took her hand, kissed her ring finger, and said, lightly, "Oh, on the contrary. You've been...fantastically patient these past months."

Tonks, system still swimming with joy and disbelief and excitement, grinned at him. "It paid off, didn't it?"

"Yes." Remus said, looking a bit dazed by his own happiness. "Proof that you're stubborn."

Tonks, smile widening despite her aching cheeks as Remus gently tucked a strand of bubblegum pink hair behind one of her ears and rested his forehead against hers, muttered, "I prefer determined."

Later, there would be yelling, and he'd have to regain her trust, and convince her that he was back for good. Later, he'd learn just how much he'd hurt her, when she had nightmares and woke fearing he'd left in the night. Later, it would be _him _who'd have to fight for _her_, just as she'd done all along.

But in that moment, as the sun continued to rise to its full height in the early morning, Remus Lupin kissed Nymphadora Tonks, kissed her without reserve, or hesitation, or doubt, thinking that, for once in his life, it was about time he turn from the shadows to face the sun.

* * *

_A/N: What did you think of the ending? Too sappy? Not sappy enough? Just enough sap? _

_About Remus' corniness...I always saw him being very traditional/cheesy in his proposal, as his relationship with Tonks is, as he says, something he never thought he'd get to experience, and he's already a fairly romantic guy. I thought he'd've rehearsed a whole speech and planned it to a T, since it obviously means so much to him, but of course Tonks is the exact opposite and would become impatient and ruin it for him. I'd love to hear what you thought of it!_

_Special thanks to LupinxTonks4ever and IsThisLove394 for their constant support/reassurances, and, most of all, to my wonderful beta, who put up with all my grumblings about this and embarrassing grammar mistakes and late night editing sessions._

_And a final thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, and alerted this story, it means a lot to me!_


End file.
